


One More Time

by Void_senpai



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Cardan is a drama king, Crack, Crack Fic, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Queen of nothing - Freeform, jurdan - Freeform, post- twk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27792232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Void_senpai/pseuds/Void_senpai
Summary: Cardan misses Jude.He's not handling it well.
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 3
Kudos: 106





	One More Time

**Author's Note:**

> So here's a dumb cracky thing that came to me while I was driving. I think it's solid Sad Cardan energy.
> 
> Enjoy!

Oh, my sweet Jude. What have you done? 

What have I done?

One night of searing joy, of elation. One night where I permitted myself to believe that all would be set to rights, or at least that we had turned down that path.

My intention was never to deceive Jude, though I will admit that my heart desired nothing more than to hear that vow trickle from her lips and mine. Of course I wished to make a bride of my goddess. A queen. Only a fool, and the lady herself I suppose, would believe that my purpose was so utilitarian as I suggested, but it was just as true as the rest of it. Already she ruled my kingdom, but from the shadows. Now she could rule in the light. Let the entire court cower before this mortal girl, more fearsome and cunning than all of them together. Let the position protect her when and where she cannot protect herself. 

Long had she ruled my heart as well. And though I occasionally dabbled in self-delusion, I was not so far gone as to think that any affection she held for me would be what tempted her into marriage. Nonetheless, my heart fluttered in my ribcage like a bird, merely from the word, “Yes.” A small indulgence for the pitiful thing and a gift for her.

Such an elegant solution.

Such a night in her arms. Chaste, but more passionate and savoring of love than any I could remember. I could not recall any, in truth. Not like this. Perhaps the dawn would bring a new beginning for us, one where my love might be returned. Openly. 

And then, just as quickly as we rose from sleep, I fell. From the pinnacle to the pit.

What a glorious mess we had made together.

What anger I bore her dissolved the moment that tears of betrayal pricked in her eyes. Surely though, she would understand the second meaning in my decree. Surely she did not think me so monstrous as to give her what she desired, only to snatch it away at a moment’s notice. My wife was far too clever to take this at face value.

But the weeks passed, and with every letter that went unanswered, I felt myself slip further into despair. A dark, throbbing void that consumed my every thought, in waking and in sleep. My explanations were not enough. She understood, but she cared not. Never before did the echo of “I hate you” sound in my ear with such sincerity. My love, my life, the only good thing to happen to me in all this wretched world, was gone gone gone.

* * *

“He’s gone.”

“Again?” I replied with a heavy sigh. The Roach nodded wearily from the doorway.

“Have you checked the usual places?”

“Yes. Nothing.” I set down my pestle among all the other plants and powders spread about the table, staring it down as I paused to think.

“The wine cellar?”

“He’d already come and gone and taken enough for a party. Or to warrant a funeral, if he was so ambitious.”

I closed my eyes, running my fingers through the white dandelion fluff of my hair before dragging myself to stand. The new smoke bombs would have to wait.

“Alright then. I’ll sweep the east side of the palace grounds if you’ll take the west. We’ll meet back here in an hour.” He grunted his assent and left.

I had hoped that the king would improve with time, much like his favorite drink, but he only grew worse. He had kept the kingdom running smoothly enough as before, by some miracle. However, as soon as his daily responsibilities concluded, he hurried off to drown himself in his sorrows, whether that meant locking himself alone in his chambers or wandering off to brood before different scenery.

I pitied him. Really, I did. None in the Court of Shadows was under any illusions with regard to his love for Jude, and certainly not after he told us of their heretofore clandestine wedding. I was no stranger to such keen heartache. I only wished that he would choose to despair somewhere within the palace walls or at least with a guard nearby, not search for some secret place to succumb like a mortally wounded cat.

I took the secret passages out to the gardens, the walls, the edges of the lakes and the forest, only to come back empty handed. Muttered curses and commands to reveal himself went unanswered, and I feared that this could be the night that an assassin finally caught him, or a selkie dragged him away to face further punishment from an unsatisfied Orlagh. He was my king, of course. But I did care for his well-being for his own sake.

As I trudged through the halls, tired and somewhat irritated to have my evening hijacked yet again, I heard a strange sound listing through the air. 

Music. Oddly familiar, yet far too loud and alien and thick with Ironside noises. I followed it all the way to the doorstep of the queen herself.

It was muffled through the solid wooden door, bluntly percussive and paired with voices both real and conjured, all pained. One stood out with a handful of barely-discernible words wailing over the din. 

" _...I should not have let you go..."_

I swung the unlocked door open, only to nearly trip over an errant shoe. A trail of empty glass bottles, and eventually the other shoe, led to Cardan.

“Your Highness?”

“.... _my loneliness_ …. _I lose my mind…”_

Oh, dear.

He didn’t hear me enter. He was sprawled out on the rug, shirt half-buttoned, eyes red and flowing freely with streaks of kohl running down his cheeks, and reeking of wine. The music was pumping from the peculiar black box beside him as he gestured and belted out the lyrics with even greater mournful enthusiasm than the singer, his voice raw and almost a bullfrog’s croak.

“Your Highness?” They were together too loud to hear me. I crouched down beside him, trying to be sensitive despite the scene before me. 

“ _...Hit me, baby. One more time…”_

“Cardan.”

He quieted and eyes rolled open to look at me.

“Can...can you make it quieter?”

He swatted blindly at the box in search of some knob or button until it was suddenly soft enough to hear without shouting. His expression was that of someone holding onto their composure by a spider’s thread, and “composure” was a generous word for it.

“What are you doing?” The thread snapped the moment my question reached his ears.

“I miss Juuude,” he bawled. He closed his eyes again to squeeze fresh tears from the corners, further dooming his eye makeup. 

“I know. I miss her too.”

“When is she coming home?” His question was half-sob, half slur. I sighed.

“I don’t know.” I didn't want to say "Probably never," but false hope didn't suit me either.

As I briefly scanned the room, I found more of Jude’s effects scattered about, most of them from the mortal realm. He seized a nearby bottle by the neck and poured the remaining few drops into his mouth before tossing it aside with disgust.

I then realized that loneliness was the greatest threat to Cardan's wellbeing. It always had been. But now, instead of turning him into a spiteful demon who washed it down with wine, it revealed the tender-hearted disaster that had always dwelled below the surface. I wasn't convinced that it was an improvement.

“Let’s get back to your chambers and to bed,” I offered gently, attempting to rise as I tugged on his wrist, but he immediately snatched it from my grip.

“No!” His voice was weak and petulant, sniffling like a child. He threw an arm over his eyes. “Leave me here to die.” 

I rolled my eyes. 

“No, you can’t die. Think of how angry Jude would be.”

“...You’re right. She would kill me if I died.”

“And we can’t have that, can we? Now up you go.” A grim joke rose in my mind as I recalled an old mortal story. The foolish lover who rushed to his lady's tomb after learning of her death, poisoning himself in his grief only to learn too late that she lived.

“Nooo,” he moaned, but he did not resist my efforts to bring him to his feet. “I don’t want to go. I miss her. The room smells like her.”

I didn’t know how he could smell anything over the stench of alcohol that surrounded him like a bubble. By all rights, he should have passed out long ago. I wiped my hand over my face.

“Then why don’t you sleep in her bed tonight?”

“...I suppose.” 

I towed him to the bed and made a valiant attempt at wrangling his ragdoll limbs onto the mattress. He began mumbling the song again, oblivious to how heavy he was. Poor thing. I would have to suppress any laughter at least until I left the room. I pulled the sheets over his shoulders, adding a tentative pat to his head.

“I’m not a child,” he hiccupped, his swollen eyes glaring up at me as he hugged a pillow fiercely to his chest. I pressed my lips tightly together.

“Of course not.”

He grunted and closed his eyes. Taking one last deep inhale into the silk, he stilled.

When I returned to the hideout, Roach was waiting anxiously for me. He jumped to his feet, looking confused but relieved by my newfound calm.

“He’s fine.” I thrust the black box into his chest. “Just make sure he never finds this.”


End file.
